Sweet Dreams
by QueenStrata
Summary: Harry has a nightmare, and there’s only one person around to comfort him. Good thing it’s Draco, huh?


A/N: Here's another one of my side stories for MSB. Again, if you haven't read MSB (and MFB before that), you won't quite understand this, so I suggest you go to my website and read them both before reading this. BTW, MFB and MSB are both MSTs…of the first two books. Only they have a kind-of plot and the occasional serious part. But yeah.

Warnings: ::shrugs:: I don't think there's anything….

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them. Do you?

Summary: Harry has a nightmare, and there's only one person around to comfort him. Good thing it's Draco, huh?

Sweet Dreams

            I wake suddenly to pitch dark and fearful moans. Uncertain of what is happening or where I am, I lay still on the bed as I wait for my brain to catch up to my waking body. And as it does, I sit up straight and look across the room at the other bed and its sleeping occupant.

            Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. To frustrate me endlessly, that is. He refused my friendship, refused to see how I tried to keep him safe, refused my attempts at peace-making, refuses now my attempts at keeping our rivalry at its proper strength. A catch-less truce. Gryffindors disgust me.

            But I really shouldn't be thinking about that now. Harry seems to be having trouble sleeping, moaning about something that I can't quite hear.

            I slide soundlessly out of my bed and creep over to him, curious and concerned. His moans become louder, more pronounced, and finally, I hear the name Cedric.

            The third task. I don't' really know what happened then, my father never deemed it important enough to tell me everything. All I know is that Harry somehow escaped during a duel with Voldemort. And that Harry and Voldemort's wands are brothers, but nobody needs to know I overheard that part.

            His moans gradually become louder and he begins thrashing around on the bed as if he's fighting someone. I move even closer, wanting to calm him down and sooth away his fears but uncertain how to do so. I sit gingerly on the edge of his bed and reach out a hand to him.

            "Potter?" I murmur uncertainly, shaking him lightly. He thrashes harder. "Potter!" I hiss, shaking him harder. I realize quickly that I'm not doing much good as he begins screaming.

            "Harry, wake up!" I snap, leaning closer and shaking him as hard as I can. A fist connects with my face. I sit back for a second, shocked, before I lean forward again and smack him, trying my best not to hurt him _too_ much.

            He wakes with a gasp, and I quickly jerk back as he sits straight up.

            "Harry?" I ask cautiously, once again leaning toward him. He stares at me, eyes wide and full of tears. I do nothing but stare back.

            "M—Draco?" he whispers uncertainly, and a single tear slips down his cheek. It seems automatically that I lift my hand and gently wipe it away.

            Unfortunately, this only seems to upset him more, as he practically throws himself at me with a sob. One arm is flung loosely over my shoulder to dangle down my back, and his other hand clutches at my neck, nails digging into my skin as his tears fall on my chest.

            I'm not sure whether or not I'm happy I tend to sleep shirtless.

            I wrap my arms awkwardly around him, pulling him close as he curls against me. Staring down at his head, I begin wishing almost desperately that someone come run to find out what's going on. The door, however, doesn't seem affected by my glare, so I stare back down at Harry. Now what?

            "I-I'm sorry," Harry's muffled voice causes me to jump slightly in surprise and my grip on him to tighten. What? "For breaking down like that. I don't mean to."

            He's sorry for _crying_? What's _wrong_ with him?

            And what am I supposed to say, anyway? _Stop being such a bloody idiot and blubber all you want?_ Oh yeah, that'll go down _real_ good.

            "It's all right," I murmur instead, rubbing his back in what I hope is a soothing manner. I don't' really care, as long as he stops crying. Wet is something I prefer not to be when I'm trying to sleep.

            "Not it isn't," he grumbles, pushing himself away from me and rubbing at his eyes. "I _never_ do that. An—and your chest is all wet." He blushes furiously, and the runs his hand down my chest in a way that makes me shiver.

            I snatch his hand away from me immediately and glare at him. Almost as if he just realizes what he'd done, he blushes again, looks down, and mutters another apology.

            "Forget it," I sigh, waving his apology off. "It's over, you've done your crying, I've done my pitiful attempts at comforting you, and now I'm going back to sleep. Good night." I quickly move to get away, desperately wanting to leave and certain he doesn't want me around.

            "No!" he half-shouts, and his hand is suddenly clutching my arm in a death grip. "Don't go," he whimpers. "Please, don't go."

            "I'm just on the other side of the room," I tell him, bewildered.

            "I—I know, but…but if you're closer to me, then maybe I won't—maybe the nightmare won't come back. Please, Draco?" he pleads, tugging on my arm.

            "Exactly how close is closer?" I ask curiously, uncertain if I should be doing this even as I crawl back into his bed.

            He blushes again, and looks down at the sheets, shifting nervously.

            "I felt…safe…when you were…holding me," he says slowly, sounding uncertain of his words.

            I blink and stare at him for a moment before sighing softly and start lying down. I pull him towards me as I pull the blankets over us. He gives me a small, thankful smile as he curls up against me, once hand clutching at the back of my neck again, only minus the nails I wrap my arms back around his waist and pull him so close that his (unfortunately fully dressed) body is pressed as tightly against mine as is humanly possible.

            I stare down at him his he drifts off, his hand moving slowly, and most likely accidentally, down my back. For some reason, I don't feel surprised at all when I realize that I've buried a hand in his hair. He was right, this _does_ feel oddly safe.

            Now the only question is why the two of us, rivals and sworn enemies since we were eleven, would possibly feel so safe when we're wrapped up in each other.

            But before I can come up with a satisfactory reason, I feel myself begin to drift off and, knowing I am powerless to resist it, I succumb quickly to the darkness. 

A/N: For those of you that may have noticed the hints in MSB, yes, Draco does know he likes Harry. However, he currently believes that it is simply a physical attraction and nothing else. With Lucius as a father, I doubt he wants to believe he can fall in love with Harry's Gryffindor-ish personality. But we all know he'll snap out of his denial eventually, don't we? ^_~

Oh, and the reason nobody came running. As far as I'm concerned, Mrs. Potter was probably rather annoyed that one time she was bothered for no apparent reason, and decided to put a Silencing Charm on the rooms so she wouldn't be disturbed. Well, that, and she must have noticed how close Remus and Sirius had gotten. ^^__


End file.
